


That Damn Dress

by notjustalittlegirl



Series: Just Shut Up (Modern AU feat. The Silmarillion characters) [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Female Curufin, Female Maglor, Gen, Little Galadriel has very bad fashion sense, Siblings, Teasing, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 05:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7963429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustalittlegirl/pseuds/notjustalittlegirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Correct me if I'm wrong: not only do I have to match a three year old, but I have to do it in a dress picked out by said three year old?"</p><p>The line of Finwë is invited to a wedding, and the dress that Maglor has to wear is less-than-stellar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Damn Dress

**Author's Note:**

> Ages (I know that really the age difference would be a bit bigger but I wanted to make them teens/kids. So yeah):  
> Maedhros: 18  
> Maglor: 16  
> Fingon: 14  
> Celegorm: 13  
> Turgon: 11  
> Caranthir: 10  
> Finrod: 9  
> Curufin: 8  
> Orodreth: 7  
> Aredhel, Angrod: 6  
> Amrod, Amras, Aegnor: 5  
> Argon: 4  
> Artanis: 3  
> Dress idea based on [this](https://www.google.com/search?q=ugly+dresses&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwi087njmPvOAhUJlx4KHabWC2EQ_AUICCgB&biw=1525&bih=709&dpr=0.9#imgdii=qk36W7ZJHT_6YM%3A%3Bqk36W7ZJHT_6YM%3A%3BfvHgatPsaGokHM%3A&imgrc=qk36W7ZJHT_6YM%3A)  
> I don't own the Silmarillion

As a general rule, Makalaurë didn't despise weddings. She liked seeing people she knew be happy, she liked listening to music all night, and she liked being part of someone else's happiest day.

This wedding, between the grandson of an old friend of her grandparents and his girlfriend, shouldn't have been any different. Until Makalaurë walked into the bedroom she shared with her only sister and saw the dress sitting on her bed.

She stared for a moment for a moment at the monstrosity that could only be loosely defined as a dress, disbelieving at what she saw. It looked more like a volcano of pink had exploded onto a piece of cloth with enough ruffles to make her sick. Breaking out of her horrified trance, Makalaurë shouted down the stairs.

"Ammë!" 

Nerdanel was there in a matter of seconds. It wasn't like her eldest daughter to yell unless there was something seriously wrong. 

"Maglor? Sweetie, what's wrong?" 

Silently, Makalaurë pointed at her bed, where the offending article of clothing lay like a neon horror on the pillow. "What is _that?_ " 

Nerdanel sighed. While her daughter was generally a very sensible girl who never set much store by clothing, she had not been anticipating Maglor being thrilled when she got out of the shower to find the dress that she was expected to wear to this wedding.

"That's your dress." 

"Excuse me? I think I just blacked out for a second. Did you just say that that insult to clothing is _mine?_ " 

"Indis and your grandfather thought it would be nice if you and your sister matched your cousins. So, Indis went shopping, and this was the dress that Artanis liked." 

Makalaurë gaped at her mother in total disbelief and, glancing briefly at Curufin's bed, found a matching dress lying in wait for her little sister's use. Despite how insane it sounded, maybe Nerdanel had not temporarily lost her memory, even if she had apparently lost her mind. 

"Ammë. Artanis is three. I love her to pieces, but correct me if I'm wrong: not only do I have to match a three year old, but I have to do it in a dress picked out by said three year old?"

Nerdanel shrugged, which told Makalaurë all she needed to know.

"Ammë, when did Indis and Artanis start hating me?"

"Just go put on the dress, Maglor. We're running late." Just then, Curufin entered the room with a towel around her hair and noticed the dress on her bed. "Ammë, why do Kána and I have these hideous-ass pink dresses on our beds?"

* * *

 After Curufin and Makalaurë had been persuaded (read:bribed) by Fëanor and Nerdanel to zip up their dresses and brave the hallway, they were greeted by the faces of all five of their brothers.

It only took about five seconds of them looking at Curvo and Kána until Maedhros began to laugh so loudly that he doubled over. This prompted Celegorm, and even Caranthir cracked a smile, and all the boys pointed at the dresses while their sisters stood there wishing they could disappear. Or break their brothers' jaws.

"Kána," gasped Maedhros between heaving laughs. "You and Curvo! You look so - so-"

"Hideous? Thanks, Nelyo. I know. Now shut up."

When Fëanor and Nerdanel were distracted by straightening Amrod and Amras' little ties, Kána shot her older brother the middle finger, trying to keep it out of sight of their younger siblings, although she was fairly certain that Celegorm saw.

As she and her siblings were herded into the family car, Kána glared down at her dress and began to mentally curse every single circumstance that had led to her and her sister, to the amusement of their brothers, being forced into pink frills from hell picked out by their three year old cousin, who was almost certainly working for Melkor.

Nelyo was not as silent as his sister. "Kána, you and Curvo look absolutely hilarious! I'm serious, this is absolutely beautiful!" Kána growled. She and Nelyo never fought, but right now she was seriously considering pulling out her brother's perfectly done bun.

Celegorm and Caranthir, encouraged by Nelyo, poked Curvo and started to laugh again. She wasn't as silent as her older sister when it came to enduring the teasing, though.

"Atya!"

Fëanor looked back into the rearview mirror and gave his sons a glare. "Boys, leave your sister alone! That goes for you too, Maedhros. Don't say another word to Kána."

While normally it annoyed Makalaurë to no end that her father doted endlessly on her little sister, today she was thanking the Valar for the fact that Curvo had Fëanor wrapped around her little finger.

"We're here!" Nerdanel pulled the car to a stop in the parking lot of the fanciest golf club that Makalaurë had ever seen and hopped out, armed with a lint roller to brush of any hair from Huan that had been transferred from the seats to the clothing of her children.

While the boys went almost as willingly as Makalaurë had ever seen them do anything, she and Curufin lingered in the backseat, hoping to be forgotten and left in the car for the several hours of the wedding. They were not.

"Maglor, Curufin, lets go! We're almost late!" Fëanor snapped his fingers, which signaled to his daughters that he was in no mood to be disobeyed. Curvo, not having had as much time to learn what her father's tones and signals meant as Maglor, didn't seem to get the memo: Fëanor was obviously angry that he had to spend any time at all, let alone a whole afternoon, in the company of his half-brothers and stepmother.

"But, Atya-"

"Now, Curufin!"

Reluctantly, Curvo followed her older sister from the car and into the lint roller.

* * *

The wedding was to be held on the lawn of the elite golf course, and a large crowd had already gathered in their seats to await the bride and groom. As they walked towards where their family was to be seated, Curvo and Kána received no shortage of strange glances. When she saw them approach, Indis stood up to look at Kána and Curvo in their matching dresses. Something flickered across her face that looked like regret at letting Artanis choose the dresses. As Curvo glared and Kána tried to hide her face behind the sizeable wedding programs, she mouthed a silent "sorry."

As the family settled into their seats, Kána noticed that her misery in the dress seemed to be matched, if not surpassed, by Aredhel. The first-grader had already managed to stain the bottom of the bright fabric with a layer of mud. She had her arms crossed, and her lower lip was out in a pout. She was staring at her outfit as if it had just murdered her family. Her older brother was trying to use the dark black sleeve of his tuxedo to wipe off his sister's hem. 

Just then, Artanis squirmed out of her mother's lap and crawled across the seats to climb into Kána's. Her little blonde curls were done up in a little bun that was as fancy as anything Kána had ever seen on a girl her age. The little girl wrapped her arms around her cousin's neck, and the elder caught sight of Fëanor glaring out of the corner of her eyes. 

She paid this no mind and, despite her annoyance at Artanis for picking this particular dress, let her cousin snuggle against her.

The music started up, and the processional began. Even the bride, clad in a dress with almost as many frills as Kána and her female cousins, glanced briefly at the pile of pink. Aredhel tried to run away during the vows, but Turgon clapped a hand over her mouth and pulled her back down into her seat. Kána saw Fingolfin stifle a laugh into his sleeve while trying to hold a squirming Argon, looking as uncomfortable as one might expect a four year old to be in a tuxedo, still.

When the ceremony was over at last and everyone began to proceed inside for the dinner and party, Nelyo pulled his cellphone and checked around quickly to make sure that his father was nowhere to be seen, then Kána saw the unmistakable flash of the camera capturing a picture of her, still with Artanis in her arms, and Curvo. 

They stopped, and turned. "Nelyo. _What_ are you doing?"

"C'mon, Kána, this is too good! There has to be some sort of record of this! Smile!"

Artanis gave her cousin's phone a big grin and waved, but Kána and Curvo stood, frozen. The phone clicked again.

"Put that away, Nelyo. Now." 

"Why?" Artanis piped up from Kána's arms. "I like pictures!"

"Shh, Artanis. Believe me, you will thank me when you're older." Nelyo snapped another picture.

Kána could tell that Curvo was about to say something to Nelyo that she had likely picked up from living in a house with four older siblings, three of whom were teenagers, so she quickly covered Artanis' ears.

Sure enough, her eight year old sister began cussing out Nelyo with a ferocity that made his eyes open in shock, and Kána kept her hands over Artanis' ears while she passed her cousin over to Finarfin.

When Curufin paused for breath, Kána grabbed her shoulder and pulled her towards their brother, still laughing and snapping pictures with his phone.

"Curvo, my dear sister. We have a mission of the utmost importance. Get that phone! I don't care what you have to do. Get that phone!"

Curvo and Kána took off across the lawn, tripping over their hems, trying to catch Nelyo and get ahold of his phone. Ultimately, though, it was Aredhel who managed to grab the device, launching herself onto her cousin's arm (as she was too small to reach his shoulders) with a tearing sound that could only be the end of the wearability of her dress. Even at six years old, she knew exactly how much she did not want any photographic evidence of being forced into Artanis' pink monster. She tossed the phone to Kána, who pressed the power button gleefully, hoping to delete every single piece of photographic evidence. But there was one final obstacle.

"Enter PASSWORD? What the FUCK?"

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
